


Alone We're Incomplete

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-12
Updated: 1999-05-12
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A continuation of MOTB.





	Alone We're Incomplete

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

This is my first attempt at fanfic, so be gentle {g}. But I'd love to  
hear feedback, good or bad. (ellis_jo@hotmail.com)

The events in this story take place in the same time frame as MOTB, so  
spoilers abound. Oh, and it'll help to have seen both parts, because  
I didn't bother repeating a lot of the events in the episode. Although  
I did steal (er, borrow) a fair amount of dialogue {g}.

Standard disclaimers apply: these aren't my characters, I'm just borrowing  
them, and please please please don't sue me.  
Rating: nothing too  
sexually explicit, (sorry to disappoint), though it is M/M (BF/RK).   
PG for mild swearing.  
And I'll repeat: ***SPOILERS*** for both  
parts of MOTB.

* * *

"Alone We're Incomplete"

The blue eyes seemed to look through him. Ray arched an eyebrow. "What're  
you looking at?" he demanded, shifting uncomfortably.

There was a pause as the Mountie's eyes met his. "You."

Ray frowned. "C'mon, keep your eyes on the road." Fraser turned back  
to the controls of the small submersible. "Lookin' at me," he muttered,  
suddenly very aware of the heat of Fraser's back against his chest. *What  
the hell does he think he's doing?* He tried to slide back, to put some  
distance between them, but metal jabbed into his back and he had to sit  
still. *Relax, Stan, you're imagining things. He's the original ladies'  
man. Besides, he's still pining for whatshername* He conjured up the  
appropriate mental file. *Victoria* "Come on Fraser," he said aloud,  
"Are we up the creek without a paddle here? Are we lost?"

"No, we're not. We're not."

"Just admit it, Fraser, we're lost."

The Mountie's voice rose. "No, we're not. We're not lost," he repeated  
unconvincingly.

"Admit it!"

"All right, we're lost!" Fraser shouted.

Ray smiled with grim satisfaction, then felt strangely guilty. "Ok. Thank  
you." *Thankin' him for getting us lost. There's logic for ya* "Go that  
way," he ordered suddenly.

Fraser turned slightly. "Why?"

"I got a feeling. It's... it's a hunch. It's a feeling. Go that way,"  
he repeated.

"Yes, but there's absolutely no reason why I..."

"Look Fraser, just this once. I trust you every single time. Every single  
time I got to trust you. Just once you trust me. Go that way."

"But if we..."

"No ifs ands or buts," Ray snarled impatiently. What the hell was Fraser  
trying to do, drive him nuts? Stuck in this sardine can for how long  
had it been now, the air hot and stuffy, his legs numb... Ray shook his  
head, trying to clear his mind. The memories kept playing themselves  
out in his head, over and over. He could still feel his partner's --  
*Ex-partner's?* --hot mouth covering his, breathing life into his body.  
*Nothing has changed, right? So why am I so confused? Freak* He shook  
his head again.

Finally, Fraser complied. "That way?" he asked, gesturing to the left.

"Yeah, that way."

He cranked the wheel slowly to the left. "All right."

***

The sub churned through the water, on and on, as Ray's thoughts whirled.  
Fraser was silent, attention fixed on the controls and on the small screen  
in front of him. Then his back straightened.

"What is it?" demanded Ray, leaning forward, trying to see the screen  
over his partner's shoulder. *Land? A boat? Anything* he prayed silently.  
*Anything to escape this*

"I think it's a vessel. But I don't think it's a freighter. Judging from  
its shape and displacement, I think it's..." Fraser paused, then reached  
up and removed his headphones.

"Oh my God, Ray, I don't believe this," he breathed. "Prepare to surface."

As the sub tilted up towards the surface, the Mountie slid back along  
the narrow bench that passed for a seat. Ray pressed his back hard up  
against the jutting metal and swallowed, tipping his head back slightly.  
"Fraser..." he gasped, panic striking him again. He closed his eyes and  
again felt his lungs burning, then the memory of that blessed cool air...  
he jerked his eyes open. "Fraser!"

His partner's eyes were fixed on the radar screen. "What is it, Ray?"

Ray bit his lip. "So why're we surfacing?"

"There's a ship, Ray. And if I'm correct, it belongs to an acquaintance  
of mine."

"Yeah? So's it like a motor boat or what?"

"Are you familiar with the tale of the Mutiny on the Bounty?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "If I say no, you're gonna tell me, right? So just  
pretend I am."

"This particular vessel is a replica of the Bounty. It was built by a  
fellow member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. A rather unorthodox  
move, perhaps, but then again, she was never a particularly orthodox  
officer." The sub leveled out. "Open the hatch, Ray."

Ray leaned up and pushed at the hatch. "Can't budge it." *Oh God*...his  
heart was pounding. *We can't be stuck* "God damn..." he swore aloud.

Fraser interrupted him. "Excuse me, Ray. I believe it's simply necessary  
to move this..." He shifted, twisting around until he was facing Ray.  
"Sorry," he apologized, as his booted feet nudged Ray's ankles. He reached  
up, adjusting the latch, then opened the hatch. "Voila."

"There ya go with the bilingual stuff again." grumbled Ray mechanically  
as the fresh air flowed into the tiny space.

Fraser leaned forward and gripped his shoulder tightly, and he jolted  
to attention. "Yeah, what?" He was acutely conscious of the five fingers  
burning through his sweater. *Stop touching me, damn it*

"Pardon me, Ray. I'm going to signal the ship to alert them to our presence."  
He stood up through the hatch. Ray breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

*I won't look* he made himself promise, then found himself arguing. *But  
he's _right_ there* He kept his eyes shut tight. It didn't help. The  
outline of Fraser's hips and the proximity of his crotch were etched  
into his mind.

Fraser ducked down. "Kindly grip my calves, Ray."

Ray jumped. "What?"

"Kindly..."

"Yeah I heard you, but why, I mean?"

"To prevent me from being swept away, Ray." The Mountie straightened  
up again. Ray hesitated, then wrapped his fingers around Fraser's calves.  
The muscles tensed beneath his hands for an instant as the sub tilted  
in the swells, then relaxed. Ray swallowed.

"You okay up there, Fraser?"

"Ahoy, Bounty!" he shouted. "We've been spotted. They're headed this  
way." He stooped again. "Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray... Ray!"

*Oops* "Yeah?"

"Are you all right?" Fraser was staring at him with an expression of  
mild concern.

"Sure, yeah, why do you ask?" He forced a smile.

"You seem to be gripping my legs with a great deal more force than is  
required."

Ray loosened his grasp. "Sorry. Don't wanna lose you now."

Fraser nodded and stood up again. A few moments later, there was a bump  
as the sub butted against the hull of the Bounty. "You in there, Detective?"  
asked Welsh's gruff voice from somewhere up above.

"Heya Sir." called Ray as Fraser's legs disappeared up out of the hatch.  
He stood up and let the lieutenant help his partner haul him up out of  
the sub. They pulled him over the rail, and he collapsed onto the wooden  
deck. It took him a moment to clear his head and wipe the sweat from  
his face. Running a hand through his blond hair, he looked around. And  
stared. "What is this, a pirate ship?"

"Welcome to the Bounty, Detective. Sergeant Thorn, Royal Canadian Mounted  
Police," said a voice from behind him. He looked back. A thick pair of  
legs, clad in the same brown boots Fraser wore. He looked up. A short,  
stocky woman dressed in red stared grimly back at him.

"Detective Vecchio. Chicago PD." He gave her a tired wave.

She frowned at his flippancy. "This is war, Detective. And this is the  
ship that will hunt down those pirates and send them to their watery  
graves. "

*War?* He laughed weakly. "Davey Jones' locker, huh?"

"It is no laughing matter, Detective." The woman gave him a final icy  
stare then turned and strode over to join the Inspector, Lieutenant Welsh  
and Fraser. Turnbull scuttled out of her way and edged up to Ray.

Ray tried to ignore the gawky constable's ranting, (he seemed to be complaining  
about regulation uniforms and swords, for some reason), and to pay attention  
to the planning. "Fraser, why is it always up to us?" he interrupted.  
*I just want to crawl into a nice warm bed and sleep for a week. Although  
a snack would be nice too* The others seemed to ignore him. He sighed  
and wandered off in search of something to eat.

***

As he stood at the bow, munching a sandwich, he felt a touch on his arm.  
"Are you all right, Ray?" Fraser was looking at him with concern. "You  
seemed... quiet."

"Fine. Yeah, I'm fine. You know, it's just that being trapped in a sinking  
boat kinda shakes you up a bit." He turned to face the water. "Uh...  
I guess I should thank you."

"You already did, Ray." Fraser joined him at the rail.

Ray nodded slowly. "It doesn't seem like enough." He paused. "You saved  
my life."

Beside him, Fraser was nodding too. "Call it payback," he suggested.  
"For all the times I've asked you to trust me."

"All the times you've endangered my life in a wildly bizarre way," said  
Ray, smiling.

Fraser smiled back. "I'm sorry about that Ray."

Ray shrugged. "Ok, so we're even. Now what about these pirates?"

Fraser paused. "You won't like it," he began, "but this is the plan."

***

The ship rocked gently on the waves. The rhythmic motion was soothing,  
and Ray let his eyes unfocus. He felt the warmth of the setting sun bathing  
the back of his neck, and replayed the climactic scene in the hold of  
the tanker. He smiled. Leave it to Fraser to catch a criminal in such  
a melodramatic way. Just then he heard voices nearby and looked up to  
see Fraser walking with the Inspector. After a moment, the Inspector  
left, and Ray went up to him. Fraser moved to the rail and leaned on  
it. Ray joined him. "So. The transfer. Ya thought about it?"

"Well, it would be the logical career move." Fraser took off his hat  
and ran his hand through his dark hair. Ray smothered a smile at the  
sight of his friend's usually perfect hair standing on end.

"That's what I think. That's what my instinct tells me." *Liar* he told  
himself.

Fraser looked away. There was a long pause. He seemed to be listening  
intently, yet all Ray could hear was the faint lapping of the waves on  
the hull. He dropped his head and stared at his hands, twisting his slender  
fingers. "Thank you," said Fraser suddenly.

"For what?" Ray looked at him, frowning slightly.

"Well." Fraser paused again. "I realize that logic doesn't always work,"  
he explained.

"I know. And I realize that going on instinct doesn't always work either,"  
Ray admitted. He looked out at the rippling water.

"No, no," agreed Fraser. "So."

"You gonna take the transfer?" asked Ray, trying to keep his voice level  
and light.

Fraser fumbled with his hat. "I don't think so." Ray nodded. "You?"

"Me? No."

"Alright. So we're still... still..."

Ray bit his lip as his mind finished the sentence for him. "I think,"  
he said quickly, before he blurted out anything he'd regret.

"Okay."

"Good."

"Right you are."

*What an emotional couple of guys we are* Ray glanced at Fraser and couldn't  
help grinning. The Mountie grinned back.

After a long silence, Ray stepped away from the railing. "I'm beat. Are  
there actually beds on this thing?"

"Of course, Ray. The Bounty is fully equipped with..."

"Less talk, more action. Lead me to 'em."

Fraser fell into step alongside him. "Actually, Ray, the beds are more  
like hammocks."

"I am _not_ sleeping in string."

"I believe they're made of cord, Ray."

"I have had a _really_ bad day. I want a bed. A real bed, with sheets  
and blankets and a pillow and a _bed_." *God, I'm getting whiny*

Fraser sighed. "I'll talk to Sergeant Thorn and see if she can find you  
somewhere to sleep that will meet your extravagant tastes."

Ray eyed him suspiciously. "Was that sarcasm, Fraser?"

"Don't be silly, Ray."

***

He'd finally gotten a comfortable bed, and now he couldn't sleep. Ray  
sighed and rolled over again, getting helplessly tangled in the sheets.  
Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the rising water, feel the  
tightness in his lungs. The panic. He pulled the blanket over his head,  
trying to shut out the sound of the waves crashing on the hull, but the  
claustrophobia of the bucket over his head and then the closeness of  
the sub came back to him and he sat bolt upright, breathing heavily.  
*Trapped. I'm still trapped* He looked down. *Hang on...*

"Get the hell off my legs, Dief." He gave the wolf a shove. Dief yowled  
disapprovingly but hopped off the bunk and went over to the door. "There's  
no way I'm taking you for a walk now." He paused. *Just where is he supposed  
to... go?* With a sigh, Ray hauled himself up. "Lucky for you I wasn't  
asleep, wolf." He grabbed the regulation grey blanket off the bed and  
wrapped it around himself. "Come on." He opened the door and went out  
into the narrow corridor. The wolf followed, winding closely around his  
calves. "So why aren't you with Fraser? You guys been fighting again  
or what?" He could have sworn the wolf glared at him. "Thought you were  
deaf," he rambled, relieved to be out of the tiny bunkroom. Dief trotted  
up the steep stairway leading to the deck, and Ray followed.

"Detective?" A voice spoke from the darkness, near the stern. Ray looked  
around but couldn't see anyone. A moment later, Inspector Thatcher stepped  
out of the shadows. "Hello Detective."

Ray groaned inwardly and was about to slip back to his bunkroom, but  
changed his mind when he saw the serious look on her face. *Or maybe  
I should be running. Am I really in the mood for a deep conversation  
right now? Or ever?* But he stayed put, since Dief was standing on his  
foot.

"Inspector?"

She came closer. "I'm glad you're still up, Detective. I've been wanting  
to speak to you about Constable Fraser."

"Oh?"

Thatcher glanced down then hurriedly back up. "Pardon me, Detective.  
I see that you and Constable Fraser share a similar dress code when off  
duty."

Ray blushed and wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself, glad  
he'd decided to wear the shorts and T-shirt he'd found in the locker  
beside his bunk.

"At any rate, Detective, I was wondering if you'd noticed any... oddities  
in Fraser's behavior."

"Oddities?" *Hooboy. You mean like licking arsenic-laden PCBs? Or leading  
a gang of potentially violent men in a singalong?* "No." He studied her.  
"Why? Have you noticed anything?"

This time, he could almost imagine she was blushing. "He's been... unresponsive  
lately."

*Unresponsive?* Ray rapidly ran through all the meanings _that_ could  
have. "I'm not sure I follow."

"I don't know." She shook her head, looking flustered. "Preoccupied.  
Distracted. I know he isn't on duty right now, but it's disconcerting,  
and I want to be sure he'll be able to function when he's back at work.  
_If_ he's back at work."

"He's not taking the transfer," said Ray.

She stared, then smiled. "Well. Then it's even more important I find  
out what's wrong." She paused. "Detective, I wonder if you'd mind speaking  
to him. Try to find out what's on his mind."

Ray shrugged. "Sure. I haven't noticed anything though." Even as his  
lips finished the sentence, his thoughts were whirling. *Oh no. No. Oddities.  
Oddities like Fraser staring at me? It was just my imagination, wasn't  
it? But if the Inspector had noticed something too...* He replayed her  
words. *Unresponsive. God. She had tried to flirt with him or something.  
And he hadn't reacted* "Uh... Inspector, I know you and I haven't always  
gotten along." *Now there's an understatement for ya* "But I always kinda  
suspected the two of you had something going on." He broke off as her  
eyes widened.

"Detective! What gives you the right to speculate about my private life?"

"I just thought..." he tried to explain. "I just thought it might help  
figure out what's wrong. Like if you two were having problems."

"Us! Having problems! The only problem we have, Detective, is that we  
don't have anything!" He stared in horror as tears came to her eyes.  
"I don't know why I ever thought there we did. I'm so stupid."

He reached out and patted her arm awkwardly. "I guess I shouldn't've  
brought it up."

She slapped his hand away. "Correct, Detective. I see your incredible  
tact is at work once again. God, and I didn't think anyone could be more  
irritating than Detective Vecchio."

*Vecchio. Vecchio. I'm so sick of that name* Suddenly Ray just wanted  
to sleep, to shut out the world and his confusion and Thatcher's nagging  
voice. "I'm sorry, Inspector," he said coldly. "I'll talk to Fraser in  
the morning."

"Thank you kindly, Detective," she said sarcastically, then ducked her  
head and hurried away, sniffling softly.

Ray shook his head. *Insane. The whole world's falling apart. Where the  
hell did Dief get to?*

***

He clamped the pillow over his ears. "Go away!" he groaned, but the insistent  
rapping continued. Ray lay still and hoped whoever it was would think  
he had died and would leave. No such luck. The door creaked open a crack.

"Ray?" asked a cheerful voice, muffled by the pillow.

Ray groaned again and rolled over. "Fraser, what time is it? Wait, I  
don't even want to know. Just say what you came to say and get out."

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Ray, but I thought you might be hungry. Breakfast  
is over, but I saved you some toast."

Fraser stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "I just tucked  
it into my pocket for safe-keeping." There was a pause and a discouraging  
crunching noise.

"Oh dear," he said, removing his crumb-covered hand from his pocket.  
"My apologies, Ray." 

"No problem, Frase." He sighed and sat up, swinging his feet over the  
side of the bunk. There was a startled yelp from Diefenbaker. "Sorry,  
pal."

"I believe we'll be docking shortly. You might want to get dressed."

Ray stretched, arching his back, and made a face. "I feel like I slept  
in one of those hammocks after all. So do we get some time off or what?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't spoken with Inspector Thatcher yet." Fraser  
stopped. A frown passed over his handsome features.

Ray winced as he remembered his encounter with the Inspector on the deck  
the night before. No wonder Fraser was frowning. "Uh... I talked to her  
last night."

Fraser eyed him. "Oh?"

"She was a little worried about you, actually." Ray stood up and reached  
for the worn green sweater lying on the floor. *How come I'm stuck with  
this old thing and Fraser gets a spiffy new red suit?*

"I can't imagine why," said Fraser, turning and placing his hand on the  
doorknob. "I'm going to go pack up my things and prepare for docking."

"What things?" Ray's words were muffled as he pulled on the sweater.  
"Look, she wanted me to talk to you and make sure everything's okay."

"Everything is fine, Ray. I'm fine. We're fine." The Mountie opened the  
door and left without meeting Ray's gaze.

Ray grabbed his pants -- *that guy's pants* he corrected -- and slipped  
into them, then followed his partner. "Fraser, wait up." He hurried down  
the corridor. Fraser was slumped on the stairs. *Slumping. What is this  
world coming to?*

"Look Fraser, I think I know what this is about."

Fraser looked up, eyes widening. "You do?"

Ray nodded. "Victoria."

One eyebrow arched. "Victoria?"

"I read the files, I know all about her and you. You and her. Whatever.  
So you uh... rebuffed the dragon lady cause you're still nuts about Victoria."

"She told you?" Fraser stared.

"Uh, not in so many words but yeah, I figured it out. Last night, right?  
Okay I don't really blame you, she kinda scares me too. So I'll tell  
her Victoria's on your mind. She'll be a little upset maybe, then she'll  
forget about it. Problem solved."

"I didn't realize there was a problem to solve."

"She wants to be sure you're fit to go back on duty when our break is  
over."

Fraser nodded slowly, then stood up with a sigh. "I really do need to  
pack." He looked around. "Where's Dief?"

"Beats me. Oh... actually I might have accidentally locked him in my  
room." Ray dismissed it. "So that's it. Somehow this case reminded you  
of Victoria, you're mourning, you'll get over it. No big deal, right?"

"Right." Fraser avoided Ray's gaze. "I'd better go get Dief."

*I've gotta agree with Thatcher for once. He is acting weird. So maybe  
I'm wrong. But if he's not pining for Victoria, then who...?* He followed  
the Mountie back down the corridor. Fraser pushed the door open, releasing  
a sulking wolf. "Sorry Dief." The animal pointedly ignored him.

"Come, Dief. I'll see you when we dock, Ray."

"Sure." *I need some time to think. Maybe he just needs a vacation. Lord  
knows I do* He shuddered as the boat shifted and once again he was back  
in the sinking tanker. *Water, water everywhere... how does that poem  
go?* His vision dims and the last thing he can remember is Fraser, a  
ghostly figure in red, floating towards him. A cold hand on his chilled  
cheek. The hot breath searing his lips, his throat, his lungs, filling  
him with life. Eyes flutter open to see Fraser's concerned face. *I'm  
alive* It wasn't until afterwards, when he'd had a chance to realize  
exactly what had happened, that it hit him how much he needed his partner.

The boat tilted again and he stumbled against the door, hitting it hard  
and slipping to the floor, jolted sharply back to the present. He groaned  
and rested his head in his hands. *Don't think about it. You need him  
as a partner. As a friend* But he couldn't block it out. The closeness  
of the sub, their bodies pressed together. *No* It was too late.

*He's pining for me*

***

Ray shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the Lieutenant to finish his  
phone conversation.

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, that's right. No anchovies. Thanks." Welsh looked  
up at Ray. "Can I help you, Detective?"

"I uh... I changed my mind about the transfer, sir."

"What?"

"I want to take the transfer."

Welsh shook his head. "Sorry, Detective, you're too late. Besides, Constable  
Fraser will be remaining, attached as a liaison to the..."

"Too late? Come on, I've earned this."

"Listen to me, Detective. I doubt I'm going to be able to find yet another  
officer willing to work around the Mountie's eccentricities. The two  
of you are a team. He stays, you stay." Welsh gave a final nod and turned  
his attention to the stack of papers on his desk.

"But sir..."

"I thought you were on vacation." Welsh didn't look up.

"Yeah." Ray scowled and left Welsh's office, allowing himself the minor  
pleasure of slamming the door behind him. *Great. Now what? Unless I  
can convince Fraser to take his transfer, we're stuck with each other*  
He slouched out to his car, giving Frannie a wave as he went. *Still  
have to talk to Thatcher* He started the car. *I'll drop by the Consulate  
and kill two birds with one stone. Two Canadians with one stone*

***

Turnbull greeted him at the front desk. "Good afternoon, Detective Vecchio.  
If you'd like to wait a moment, I'll go tell Constable Fraser that you're  
here."

"Thanks Turnbull, but actually, I need to talk to Inspector Thatcher."

"Inspector Thatcher?" Turnbull's eyes widened. "She's out." He looked  
around then whispered conspiratorially, "On a date."

"A date?" *The dragon lady? Huh. Oh well, better bite the bullet and  
talk to Fraser* "Well nice chattin' with you, Turnbull," he said, walking  
past him towards Fraser's office/bedroom, ignoring the young man's protestations.

"Fraser?" *God, I do not want to do this*

Fraser was nowhere in sight, but Ray could hear a faint murmuring. After  
a puzzled moment, he opened the closet. Fraser spun around. "Oh. Hello  
Ray." Looking slightly embarrassed, he stepped out and shut the closet  
door. Ray moved back nervously. *Relax*

"Mind if I ask what you were doing in there?" *Do I really want to know?*

Fraser paused. "Meditating."

"Of course. Meditating. In a closet. Should have known. Some Inuit thing,  
right? I didn't know they could fit closets in those igloos." *You're  
rambling* "Yeah, stupid me, I know they have actual houses now, right?"  
*Shut up, shut up*

"How can I help you, Ray?"

Ray started to speak but met Fraser's blue gaze and had to stop. *Calm  
down. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it is Victoria* He tried again. "I wanted  
to ask you again about the transfer."

"Why? Have you changed your mind?"

Ray averted his eyes. "I dunno. Maybe. But that's not why I'm asking."  
He interlocked his fingers to keep them from tapping nervously on the  
desk. "So Thatcher thinks you can't concentrate cause stuff around here  
reminds you of Victoria. Although why that wouldn't have affected you  
a long time ago, I don't know. But maybe you oughta take the transfer.  
Get away from your memories." Fraser was still standing behind his small  
desk. Ray glanced at him and perched on the edge of it. "So?"

"I'm not taking the transfer." He hesitated. "This has nothing to do  
with Victoria. She was a mistake."

*Nothing to do with Victoria. Oh God. Then...* Ray took a deep breath.  
*I have to do this. I have to. Besides, he'll take the transfer, you'll  
never see him again. Never have to face that blue stare. Okay. Here goes*  
Ray turned to face him. "Look, Frase, we've got to talk." He took a deep  
breath. Fraser was staring at him politely, obviously puzzled. The wide-eyed  
naivet wasn't going to make this any easier. He looked around, making  
sure Turnbull wasn't within earshot. "I..." he paused and tried again.  
"I know how you feel about me." Fraser started to interrupt, but he plowed  
on. "I know you said nothing had changed between us, after that..." he  
swallowed, "...that thing on the boat, but you've been acting kinda weird  
lately. So I just wanted to say I know how you feel, but I'm not like  
that. Um... no offense or anything. I'm strictly for the ladies, me."  
He stopped and turned away to escape Fraser's piercing eyes. "So uh...  
let's just drop it, okay? I'm just saying maybe you should take the transfer."

There was a long pause. "Ray..." began Fraser, but Ray interrupted.

"Just drop it, okay?" he repeated, straightening up and walking towards  
the door. *I didn't know just how awkward that was gonna be. I thought  
I did. But it was a thousand times worse* He wanted to get as far away  
as possible, to escape the unbearably thick tension. But Fraser followed.

"Ray, this is important," protested the Mountie. He waited until Ray  
had stopped, leaning against the door frame.

"What? What's so important?"

Fraser licked his lip nervously. "It was very considerate of you to say  
those things. If I did indeed have... those feelings for you, it would  
have been best to clear the air."

Ray looked up, horrified. "If? If? What're you talking about, Fraser?  
Those times you've been staring at me, all those times you touch me when  
you don't need to -- I can climb just fine by myself, thanks! -- and  
that thing you were doing with your mouth..." He broke off. Flushed a  
deep red. "Don't tell me this is all in my head, Fraser."

Fraser had been shifting anxiously from foot to foot. "Ordinarily I have  
problems finding the right words, when relationships are the topic of  
discussion," he said. He paused. "At least, when it comes to women."  
A faint blush passed over his face. "But I think we should discuss this,  
if we are to remain partners."

"Which is why I'm saying you oughta rethink taking that transfer, Fraser.  
Unless you want to have a freak for a partner." Ray slumped. "What the  
hell was I thinking?" He looked up. "Come on, I didn't imagine all of  
it. What about that look you were giving me in the sub?"

Fraser sighed. "That wasn't what you think, Ray. Although it would require  
quite a lengthy explanation to convince you of that."

"So convince me. I'm desperate." *Convince me, damnit, and prove just  
how big of an idiot I really am*

"I was looking at my father."

"Your dead father."

"Yes Ray."

"You're seeing ghosts, and I'm the one who's screwed up?" exclaimed Ray,  
flinging his hands into the air. "Forget it. Forget I ever said anything.  
I guess I was making it all up." As he pushed past his partner, heading  
down the hall, he was shocked to realize how empty he felt. How... disappointed.  
*No. It's not me, it was Fraser. Fraser was the one who was staring.  
The one who went back to save my life* He laughed bitterly. It couldn't  
be that he'd been seeing signs where there were none, because _he_ had  
feelings for Fraser. "No," he said aloud, walking faster. *Stella, think  
of Stella* he told himself. But that only made him think of all the reasons  
they'd split up. *Maybe this was one of them* Stella had been one of  
his best friends. Still would be, if she hadn't gotten so worked up over  
the divorce. But maybe they'd split up because that's all they could  
be. Friends. He shook his head violently. *This is nuts. Nuts. I'm imagining  
things because I'm under a lot of stress, that's all. I almost died,  
goddamnit* He passed the Inspector on her way in the door and made himself  
smile seductively, just to prove to himself that he did like women. She  
gave him a cold stare and shouldered past. He sighed. He'd never be able  
to face Fraser again.

Just as he stepped out of the Consulate, he felt something crash into  
the back of his knees, and tumbled down the steps. *What the hell ...?*  
Groggily, he opened his eyes to find Dief licking his face vigorously.  
"What do you think you're doing, wolf?" Ray propped himself up on his  
elbows just in time to see Fraser appear in the Consulate entrance.

"I'd like to apologize for his behavior." Fraser seemed unusually flustered.

*And why shouldn't he be? I've just practically come right out and told  
him I'm obsessed with him* Ray told himself with a groan.

Fraser had hurried down the stairs, and was extending a hand when suddenly  
he jerked it away and blushed bright red. "Excuse me," he mumbled, and  
stepped back.

Ray closed his eyes for a moment, wanting to delay the inevitable for  
as long as possible. Then he got up, wincing as he felt fresh bruises  
forming on his already bruised back. "Look, I'm sorry Fraser. I'm not  
going to accuse you of..." He tried to think of a discreet way to finish  
the sentence and failed. "Forget what I said, okay? I don't mind a little  
help now and then."

"Yes Ray." Fraser was still staring at him. "Ray, I've been thinking."

"Well congratulations," said Ray as sarcastically as possible. He had  
a horrible feeling he might start to cry soon, and he wanted to be as  
far away from anyone, especially Fraser, by the time the tears started.  
"I gotta go."

"Ray, we need to talk." Fraser edged around him, blocking the path.

"Fine! Talk!" Ray tried hard not to blink.

Fraser licked his lip again. "It was hard for me, learning to work with  
a new partner. Ray Vecchio was my best friend. It took a while to learn  
to accept you." He paused, playing with his lanyard. "And to come to  
terms with my feelings."

*Feelings? What feelings?* Ray felt an irrational hope spring up within  
him.

"I was... relieved when I found out about your ex-wife. It meant that  
I was imagining things, that I did not have to deal openly with my emotions."

Ray stared at him. "So now we're both imagining things?" *Both of us?*

Fraser nodded.

"But if we're both imagining things..." Ray stopped and shook his head.  
*I am _not_ having this conversation* "Then we're obviously both in need  
of a shrink. Fine. I'll be sure to give one a call sometime. Look, Fraser,  
I'm tired. I've just nearly drowned, learned to swim, and fought pirates.  
I've gotta get some serious rest."

Fraser didn't move from his position blocking his path. "Listen to me  
Ray. Listen to what I'm saying." He looked pleadingly at him.

In spite of himself, Ray smiled. "I don't believe this. Your puppy-dog  
eyes win again." He sighed. "So are you serious? You're..." He stopped.  
"What about Victoria?"

"I believe the correct term is bisexual, Ray."

Ray shook his head disbelievingly. "I had no idea you knew words like  
that, Fraser." He met the Mountie's eyes as the implication of the words  
struck him. "You _are_? And you..." He couldn't finish, and tried again.  
"You have... feelings for me?" He could feel a smile starting to stretch  
his mouth, despite his attempts to hide it.

"And it would appear you feel the same way," Fraser said softly, lowering  
his eyes to his shiny boots.

Ray grinned suddenly. "Our very first case, I had to pry you off my inner  
thigh." He was relieved to see Fraser smile back. *I don't think I could  
have taken any more of that soap opera crap*

"That was an exceptional circumstance, Ray. I am not in the habit of  
pawing my fellow officers." He tilted his head with a grin. "And I seem  
to recall you once asked me if I found you attractive."

"If you were a woman!" Ray protested half-heartedly, still grinning.  
"What about Frannie?" he said suddenly. His grin grew. *She'll be heartbroken*

"I don't see that Francesca has anything to do with this. After all,  
she's not really your sister."

"But I'd kinda gotten the impression that you two had gotten ... um...  
intimate."

Fraser shook his head. "If we had, it would not be appropriate for me  
to comment."

"Jesus, Fraser, considering what we're talking about, I think you kinda  
owe me!"

"True enough." Fraser paused. "Fortunately, there is nothing to comment  
on." He cocked his head, pausing again. "But what about Stella?"

Ray nodded, his smile fading. "I think she always kinda suspected. I...  
I love her, Fraser, she's one of my best friends. Or used to be, before  
we split up. But I needed more, and she knew it."

"Have you told her?"

Ray shook his head. "I don't think I need to."

"If... if we choose to... to act on our feelings..." Here Fraser had  
to stop for a moment, wracked by a brilliant blush, "You'll have to tell  
her. You'll have to tell everyone."

"I know. Don't you think I've thought of that? Hell, in the last half  
hour, I've imagined coming out a hundred times. A thousand times. Besides,  
I think my folks kinda suspect too. And your parents are dead."

Fraser bit his lip hard. "Uh... actually, I suspect my dad knows."

"What? What are you talking about? Oh wait, the ghost thing. Right. Silly  
me." Ray was amazed that he was still able to think rationally. *If you  
call ghosts rational* And still able to speak, for that matter. He had  
just come out to his best friend, had just found out that his best friend,  
the man he loved, loved him back. *How can I just stand here? How can  
the world go on as usual? Where are the church bells and the little birds  
chirping and the rainbows?* He realized suddenly he had a huge stupid  
grin on his face. He leaned towards Fraser and took his arm. "Forget  
it. Tell me later. Right now, I don't feel like talking. We're on vacation,  
for once, and I don't think we should waste the time arguing about your  
delusions." *I can't believe I'm saying this. I can't believe it's so  
easy to say*

Fraser stared at him. "What are you suggesting, Ray?"

"You're absolutely infuriating!" he exclaimed. "Don't you care about  
what I've told you? Don't you remember how it felt in that sub? You've  
already admitted I wasn't the only one feeling it. Damn it, Fraser, I  
love you!" *I do* The full implications of his words struck him like  
a bolt of lightening. *I really love him*

This time the stupid grin was on Fraser's face. Ray grinned back. "So  
you're not made of stone." He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and  
kissed the Mountie gently on the lips. To his delight, Fraser wrapped  
his arms around him and kissed him back. "Wait..." he murmured, pulling  
away slightly. "Not here. I betcha the dragon lady wouldn't be too happy  
to catch you here."

Fraser stiffened. "Ray... that's something else I need to tell you."

"Not now. I don't care. Let's find us a room." He started to pull him  
towards his car, his heart soaring. *I've got Fraser. He's mine* He squeezed  
Fraser's arm, feeling his realness. *See, Stan ol' pal, this is real.  
He's real. This is really happening. God, I still can't believe it*

Fraser blinked and stood still. "I do need to tell you about Inspector  
Thatcher," he said seriously, although even he was unable to hide completely  
the smile on his face.

"Inspector Thatcher, Victoria, I don't care. I don't care if you've been  
in love with the entire female population of Chicago, as long as right  
now, you love me." Ray was surprised to find he meant it. "At least _you_  
don't have an ex-wife."

"True enough." He turned Ray to face him. "I don't love them anymore.  
It was before I'd met you." He was rambling.

"I know." Ray smiled. "Besides, would you lie? I trust you when it comes  
to putting my life in mortal danger, so give me some credit. I trust  
you. I believe you."

"Thank you Ray." Fraser pulled him closer. "Now what were you saying  
about a room..?"

Ray grinned. "There's hope for you yet, Frase," he said, embracing him  
and giving him a quick kiss, delighting at having the freedom to do so.  
*Although the front lawn of the Consulate might not be the best place*  
It was amazing how quickly it had all happened. There was no awkwardness  
at all. "Soulmates," he murmured.

Fraser squeezed him tightly. "It's like something someone told me once.  
Alone we're incomplete, but together, we're better than we are separate,"  
he whispered in Ray's ear.

Ray heard the note of sadness. "Vecchio?" he asked softly, and felt Fraser  
nod. "Did he know?"

He felt Fraser nodding. "He is..." he paused, "...was, my best friend.  
I had to tell him."

*Vecchio again. Oh no...* Ray drew back, stared Fraser in the eye. "Did  
you... did you love him?" Fraser was silent. *No. Oh come _on_, Fraser!*  
"Did you _love_ him?" he repeated, his voice getting louder. Fraser hesitated  
for a long time. Ray turned, slammed his fist into the metal gate. *Ow*  
"That postcard. 'Heat me up.' God, I'm so stupid." He spun back around  
to face his partner. "I'm just a replacement for him, aren't I? Admit  
it. Come on, admit it!" He realized too late that he was shouting, just  
as he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Vecchio, what's going on here?" Ray turned to face the Lieutenant, who  
was staring at him, a puzzled expression on his face. "I thought we'd  
been through this, Detective."

"Yes sir." Ray's mind raced. *What the hell is he doing here? And how  
long has he been standing there?* He glanced at Fraser, who looked tense  
but not overly embarrassed. *Bastard* he thought furiously.

"I know you don't like being a replacement. But hearing you broadcast  
it to the entire neighbourhood... if you can convince Constable Fraser  
to transfer out of Chicago, the transfer is yours. So you can get your  
own life back. Make a new one. Whatever." Welsh stared at him. "Or maybe  
you just need a vacation a lot more than I thought. I'd hate to lose  
a good officer." He glanced at Fraser. "Two good officers."

Ray nodded. "Sir," he said noncommittally. He glanced at Fraser again.  
The Mountie was staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Lieutenant,"

Ray winced at the pronunciation even as he waited anxiously to hear Fraser's  
words.

"Ray was just a little shaken up after the events of the past few days.  
We both just need a little time to recuperate."

"Well then lucky for you you're both on vacation. At least I hope you  
are, Constable. That's what I'm here to talk to Inspector Thatcher about."  
He patted Fraser on the shoulder. "Talk some sense into your partner,  
Constable." Amazingly, he smiled. "You two deserve a break." Then he  
leaned closer to Ray, his habitual scowl returning. "And you, for one,  
most definitely need one."

Ray didn't bother answering. *I don't need a vacation, I need to lock  
myself in a padded room until the world makes sense again*

"Thank you kindly, Lieutenant." Fraser gave a forced smile, then shook  
his head with a slight frown. "The Inspector isn't here, sir."

Welsh sighed heavily. "Figures. The one day I decide to drive over, enjoy  
the sunshine, she isn't in." He nodded at the two men and turned back  
towards his car.

Fraser watched him politely until the Lieutenant was out of sight, the  
older man glancing back a few times over his shoulder and frowning slightly  
as he went. Then he turned his attention back to Ray. He rested his hands  
on Ray's shoulders. "Listen to me, _Stan_," he emphasized. "You are _not_  
a replacement for Raymond Vecchio. I loved him like a brother. I love  
you..." He blushed again, dropping his eyes, but keeping his hands firmly  
on his partner.

Ray felt hope stirring once again. "You... you mean it?" The dark suspicious  
corners of his mind whispered to him. *He's playing you for a fool*

"Would I lie to you, Ray?"

*No. He wouldn't. I wouldn't believe anyone else who told me something  
like that, but I believe him* He smiled as the whispers died away. "Not  
likely." Slowly, he raised his hands to cover Fraser's, and squeezed  
them gently. "I can't believe this is happening."

To his intense delight, Fraser smiled a slow, beautiful smile and leaned  
towards him. "Believe it," he murmured, pressing his lips against Ray's,  
pulling him close, and they stood, locked in a tight embrace, oblivious  
to the traffic in the street and the world around them.


End file.
